I said at the conclusion of my lecture, last Sunday, that when we of the

Church of England assert that the Scripture is the sole authority in

matters of faith, we by no means mean to exclude the office of the

Church, nor to assert any thing so extravagant, as that it is the duty

of every person to sit down with the volume of the Scriptures in his

hand, and to make out from that alone, without listening to any human

authority, what is the revelation made by God to man. But I know that

many are led to adopt notions no less extravagant of the authority of

the Church and of tradition,--even to the full extent maintained by the

Church of Rome,--because they see no other refuge from what appears to

them, and not unreasonably, so miserable and so extreme a folly; for an

extreme and a most miserable folly doubtless it would be, in any one, to

throw aside all human aid except his own; to disregard alike the wisdom

of individuals, and the agreeing decisions of bodies of men; to act as

if none but himself had ever loved truth, or had been able to discover

it; and as if he himself did possess both the will and the power to

do so.

This is so foolish, that I doubt whether any one ever held such

notions, and, much more, whether be acted upon them. But is it more wise

to run from one form of error into its opposite, which, generally

speaking, is no less foolish and extravagant? What should we say of a

man who could see no middle course between never asking for advice, and

always blindly following it; between never accepting instruction upon

any subject, and believing his instructors infallible? And this last

comparison, with our particular situation here, will enable us, I think,

by referring to our own daily experience, to understand the present

question sufficiently. The whole system of education supposes,

undoubtedly, that the teacher, in those matters which he teaches, should

be an authority to the taught: a learner in any matter must rely on the

books, and on the living instructors, out of which and from whom he is

to learn. There are difficulties, certainly, in all learning; but we do

not commonly see them increased by a disposition on the part of the

learner to question and dispute every thing that is told him. There is a

feeling rather of receiving what he is told implicitly; and, by so

doing, he learns: but does it ever enter into his head that his teacher

is infallible? or does any teacher of sane mind wish him to think so?

And observe, now, what is the actual process: the mind of the learner is

generally docile, trustful, respectful towards his teacher; aware, also,

of his own comparative ignorance. It is certainly most right that it

should be so. But this really teachable and humble learner finds a false

spelling in one of his books; or hears his teacher, from oversight, say

one word in his explanation instead of another: does he cease to be

teachable and humble,--is it really a want of childlike faith, and an

indulgence of the pride of reason, if he decides that the false spelling

was an error of the press; that the word which his teacher used was a

mistake? Yet errors, mistakes, of how trifling a kind soever, are

inconsistent with infallibility; and the perceiving that they are errors

is an exercise of our individual judgment upon our instructors. To hear

some men talk, we should think that no boy could do so without losing

all humility and all teachableness; without forthwith supposing that he

was able to be his own instructor.

I have begun on purpose with an elementary case, in which a very young

boy might perceive an error in his books, or in his instructors,

without, in any degree, forfeiting his true humility. But we will now go

somewhat farther: we will take a more advanced student, such as the

oldest of those among you, who are still learners, and who know that

they have much to learn, but who, having been learners for some time

past, have also acquired some knowledge. In the books which they refer

to, and from which they are constantly deriving assistance, do they

never observe any errors in the printing? do they never find

explanations given, which they perceive to be imperfect, nay, which they

often feel to be actually wrong? And, passing from books to living

instructors, should we blame a thoughtful, attentive, and well-informed

pupil, because his mind did not at once acquiesce in our interpretation

of some difficult passage; because he consulted other authorities on the

subject, and was unsatisfied in his judgment; the reason of his

hesitation being, that our interpretation appeared to him to give an

unsatisfactory sense, or to be obtained by violating the rules of

language? Is he proud, rebellious, puffed up, wanting in a teachable

spirit, without faith, without humility, because he so ventures to judge

for himself of what his teacher tells him? Does such a judging for

himself interfere, in the slightest degree, with the relation between us

and him? Does it make him really cease to respect us? or dispose him to

believe that he is altogether beyond the reach of our instruction? Or

are we so mad as to regard our authority as wholly set at nought,

because it is not allowed to be infallible? Doubtless, it would be

wholly set at nought, if we had presumed to be infallible. Then it would

not be merely that, in some one particular point, our decision had been

doubted, but that one point would involve our authority in all; because

it would prove, that we had set up beforehand a false claim: and he who

does so is either foolish, or a deceiver; there is apparent a flaw

either in his understanding, or in his principles, which undoubtedly

does repel respect.

Let me go on a step farther still. It has been my happiness to retain,

in after years, my intercourse with many of those who were formerly my

pupils; to know them when their minds have been matured, and their

education, in the ordinary sense of the term, completed. Is not the

relation between us altered then still more? Is it incompatible with

true respect and regard, that they should now judge still more freely,

in those very points, I mean, in which heretofore they had received my

instructions all but implicitly? that on points of scholarship and

criticism, they should entirely think for themselves? Or does this

thinking for themselve mean, that they will begin to question all they

had ever learnt? or sit down to forget purposely all their school

instructions, and make out a new knowledge of the ancient languages for

themselves? Who does not know, that they whose minds are most eager to

discern truth, are the very persons who prize their early instruction

most, and confess how much they are indebted to it; and that the

exercise of their judgments loads them to go on freely in the same path

in which they have walked so long, here and there it may be departing

from it where they find a better line, but going on towards the same

object, and generally in the same direction?

What has been the experience of my life,--the constantly observing the

natural union between sense and modesty; the perfect compatibility of

respect for instruction with freedom of judgment; the seeing how Nature

herself teaches us to proportion the implicitness of our belief to our

consciousness of ignorance: to rise gradually and gently from a state of

passively leaning, as it were, on the arm of another, to resting more

and more of our weight on our own limbs, and, at last, to standing

alone, this has perpetually exemplified our relations, as individuals,

to the Church. Taught by her, in our childhood and youth, under all

circumstances; taught by her, in the great majority of instances,

through our whole lives; never, in any case, becoming so independent of

her as we do in riper years, of the individual instructor of our youth;

she has an abiding claim on our respect, on our deference, on our

regard: but if it should be, that her teaching contained any thing at

variance with God's word, we should perceive it more or less clearly,

according to our degrees of knowledge; we should trust or mistrust our

judgment, according to our degree of knowledge; but in the last resort,

as we suppose that even a young boy might be sure that his book was in

error, in the case of a manifest false print, so there may be things so

certainly inconsistent with Scripture, that a common Christian may be

able to judge of them, and to say that they are like false prints in his

lesson, they are manifest errors, not to be followed, but avoided. So

far he may be said to judge of his teacher; but not the less will he

respect and listen to her authority in general, unless she has herself

made the slightest error ruinous to her authority by claiming to be in

all points, great or small, alike infallible.

Men crave a general rule for their guidance at all times, and under all

circumstances; whereas life is a constant call upon us to consider how

far one general rule, in the particular case before us, is modified by

another, or where one rule should be applied, and where another. To

separate humility from idolatry, conscience from presumption, is often

an arduous task: to different persons there is a different besetting

danger; so it is under different circumstances, and at different times.

Every day does the seaman, on a voyage, take his observations, to know

whereabouts he is; he compares his position with his charts; he

considers the direction of the wind, and the set of the current, or

tide; and from all these together, he judges on which side his danger

lies, on what course he should steer, or how much sail he may venture to

carry. This is an image of our own condition: we cannot have a general

rule to tell us where we should follow others, and where we must differ

from them; to say what is modesty, and what is indolence; what is a

proper deference to others, and what is a trusting in man so far, that

it becomes a want of trust in God. Only, we are sure that these are

points which we must decide for ourselves; the human will must be free,

so far as other men are concerned. If we say, that we will implicitly

trust others, then there is our decision, which no one could have made

for us, and which is our own choice as to the principle of our lives;

for which choice, we each of us, and no one else in all the world, must

answer at the judgment-seat of God. Only, in that word there is our

comfort, that, for our conduct in so doubtful a voyage as that of life,

amidst so many conflicting opinions, each courting our adherence to

it,--amidst such a variety of circumstances without, and of feelings

within, and on which, notwithstanding, our condition for all eternity

must depend,--we shall be judged, not by erring man, not by our own

fallible conscience, but by the all-wise, and all-righteous God. With

him, after all, even in the very courts of his holy Church, we yet, in

one sense, must each of us live alone. On his gracious aid, given to our

own individual souls, and determining our own individual wills, depends

the character of our life here and for ever. Trusting to him, praying to

him, we shall then make use of all the means that his goodness has

provided for us; we shall ask counsel of friends; we shall listen to

teachers; we shall delight to be in the company of God's people, of one

mind, and of one voice, with the good and wise of every generation; we

shall be afraid of leaning too much to our own understanding, knowing

how it is encompassed with error; but knowing that other men are

encompassed with error also, and that we, and not they, must answer for

our choice before Christ's judgment, we must, in the last resort, if our

conscience and sense of truth cannot be persuaded that other men speak

according to God's will,--we must follow our own inward convictions,

though all the world were to follow the contrary.

LECTURE XXXIII.

* * * * *

JOHN ix. 29.

_We know that God spake unto Moses; as for this fellow, we know not from

whence he is_.

The questions involved in the conversations recorded in this chapter,

are of great practical importance. Not perhaps of immediate practical

importance to all in this present congregation; but yet sure to be of

importance to all hereafter, and of importance to many at this actual

moment. Nay, they are of importance to those who, from their youth,

might be thought to have little to do with them, either where the mind

is already anxious and inquiring beyond its years, or where it happens

to be exposed to strong party influences, or that its passions are

likely to be engaged on a particular side, however little the

understanding may be interested in the matter. In fact, in religious

knowledge, as in other things, the omissions of youth are hard to make

up in manhood; they who grow up with a very small knowledge of the

Scriptures, and with no understanding of any of the questions connected

with them, can with difficulty make up for this defect in after years;

they become, according to the influences to which, they may happen to be

subjected, either unbelieving or fanatical.

If we were to question the youngest boy about the language held in this

chapter by the Pharisees, and by the man who had been born blind, we

should, no doubt, be answered, that what the Pharisees said, was wrong;

and what the man born blind said, was right. This would be the answer

which it would be thought proper to give; because it would be perceived

that the Pharisees' language expressed unbelief in Christ; and that the

man born blind was expressing gratitude and faith towards him. Nor,

indeed, should we expect a young boy to go much farther than this; for

such general impressions are, at his age, as much many times as can be

looked for. But it is strange to observe how much this want of

understanding outlasts the age of boyhood; how apt men are to judge

according to names, and to see no farther: to say, that the language of

the Pharisees was wrong, because they find it employed against Christ;

but yet to use the very same language themselves, whilst they think that

they are all the while speaking for Christ.

But in this conversation between the Pharisees and the blind man, there

are, indeed, as I said, points involved of very great importance; it

contains the question as to the degree of weight to be attached to

miracles; and the question, no less grave, with what degree of tenacity

we should reject what claims to be a new truth, because it seems to be

at a variance with supposed old truths to which we have been long

accustomed to cling with undoubting affection.

The question as to the weight of miracles is contained in the sixteenth

verse. Some of the Pharisees said, This man is not of God, because he

keepeth not the Sabbath day. Others said, How can a man that is a sinner

do such miracles? That is to say, the first party rejected the miracles

because they seemed to be wrought in favour of a supposed false

doctrine; the other accepted the doctrine, because it seemed warranted

to their belief by the miracles.

The second question is contained in the words of the text, "We know

that God spake to Moses; as for this fellow, we know not from whence he

is." We have been taught from our childhood, and have the belief

associated with every good and pious thought in us, that God spake to

Moses, and gave him the law as our rule of life; but as for this fellow,

we know not from whence he is. His works may be wonderful, his words may

be specious; but we never heard of him before, and we cannot tear up all

the holiest feelings of our nature to receive a new doctrine. We will

hold to the old way in which, we were taught by our fathers to walk, and

in which they walked before us.

This last question is one which, as we well know, is continually

presented to our minds. No one says, that the Pharisees were right, any

more than those very Pharisees thought that their fathers were right who

had killed the prophets. But as our Lord told them, that they were in

truth the children in spirit of those who had killed the prophets;

because, although they had been taught to condemn the outward form of

their fathers' action, they were repeating it themselves in its

principles and spirit; so many of those who condemn the Pharisees are

really their exact image, repeating now against the truths of their own

days the very same arguments which the Pharisees used against the truths

of theirs.

For the arguments of these Pharisees, both as regards miracles, and as

regards the suspicion with which we should look on a doctrine opposed to

the settled opinions of our lives, have in fact, in both cases, a great

mixture of justice in them; and it is this very mixture which we may

hope beguiled them; and also beguiles those, who in our own days repeat

their language.

For most certain it is that the Scripture itself supposes the

possibility of false miracles. The case is especially provided against

in Deuteronomy. It there says, "If there arise among you a prophet or a

dreamer of dreams, and giveth thee a sign or a wonder, and the sign or

the wonder come to pass whereof he spake unto thee, saying, Let us go

after other gods which thou hast not known, and let us serve them: thou

shalt not hearken unto the words of that prophet or that dreamer of

dreams, for the Lord your God proveth you, to know whether ye love the

Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul." Observe how

nearly this comes to the language of the Pharisees, "This man is not of

God, because he keepeth not the Sabbath day." "Here," they might have

said, "is the very case foreseen in the Scriptures: a prophet has

wrought a sign and a wonder, which is at the same time a breach of God's

commandments. God has told us that such signs are not to be heeded, that

he does but prove us with them to see whether we love him truly: knowing

that where there is a love of him, the heart will heed no sign or

wonder, how great soever, which would tempt it to think lightly of his

commandments." Shall we say that this is not a just interpretation of

the passage in Deuteronomy? shall we say that this is the language of

unbelief or of sin? or, rather, shall we not confess that it is in

accordance with God's word, and holy, and faithful, and true? And yet

this most just language led those who used it to reject one of Christ's

greatest miracles, and to refuse the salvation of the Holy One of God.

Can God's truth be contrary to itself? or can truth and goodness lead so

directly to error and to evil?

Now, then, where is the solution to be found? for some solution there

must be, unless we will either condemn a most true principle, or defend

a most false conclusion. The error lies in confounding God's moral law

with his law of ordinances; precisely the same error which led the Jews

to stone Stephen. The law had undoubtedly commanded that he who

blasphemed God should be stoned; the Jews called Stephen's speaking

against the holy place and against the law blasphemy against God, and

they murdered God's faithful servant and Christ's blessed martyr. Even

so the law had said, Let no miracle be so great as to tempt you to

forsake God: the Jews considered the forsaking the law of the Sabbath to

be a forsaking of God, and they said that Christ's miracle was a work of

Satan. There is no blasphemy into which we may not fall, no crime from

which we shall be safe, if we do not separate in our minds most clearly

such laws as relate to moral and eternal duties, and such as relate to

outward or positive ordinances, even when commanded or instituted by God

himself. It is most false to say that the fact of their being commanded

sets them on a level with each other. So long as they are commanded to

us, it is no doubt our duty to obey them equally: but the difference

between them is this, that whereas the first are commanded to us and to

our children for ever, and no possible evidence can be so great as to

persuade us that God has repealed them; (for the utmost conceivable

amount of external testimony, such as that of miracles, could only lead

to madness;--the human mind might, conceivably, be overwhelmed by the

conflict, but should never and could never be tempted to renounce its

very being, and lie against its Maker;) the others, that is, the

commands to observe certain forms and ordinances, are in their nature

essentially temporary and changeable: we have no right to assume that

they will be continued, and therefore a miracle at any time might justly

require us to forsake them; and not only an outward miracle, but the

changed circumstances of the times may speak God's will no less clearly

than a miracle, and may absolutely make it our duty to lay aside those

ordinances, which to us hitherto, and to our fathers before us, were

indeed the commands of God.

Now let us take the other question,--which may indeed be called a

question as to the allowableness of resting confidently in truth already

gained, without consenting to examine the claims of something asserting

itself to be a new truth, yet which seems to interfere with the old. Is

nothing within us to be safe from possible doubt, or is everything? Or

is it here, as in the former case, that there are truths so tried and so

sacred that it were blasphemy to question them; while there are others,

often closely intermixed with these, which are not so sacred, because

they are not eternal; which may and ought to be examined when occasion

requires; and which may be laid aside, or exchanged rather, for some

higher truth, if it shall reasonably appear that their work is done, and

that if we retain them longer they will change their character, and

become no longer true but false. "David having served his own generation

by the will of God, fell asleep, and was gathered unto his fathers, and

saw corruption; but He whom God raised again saw no corruption." This is

the difference between positive ordinances and moral: the first serve

their appointed number of generations by the will of God, and then are

gathered to their fathers, and perish; the latter are by the right hand

of God exalted, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever.

"We know," said the Jews, "that God spake to Moses; but for this fellow,

we know not from whence he is." There was a time when their fathers had

held almost the very same language to Moses: "they refused him, saying

Who made thee a ruler and a judge over us?" But now they knew that God

had spoken to Moses, but were refusing Him who was sent unto them after

Moses. God had spoken unto Moses, it was most true: he had spoken to him

and given him commandments which were to last for ever; and which

Christ, so far from undoing, was sent to confirm and to perfect; he had

spoken to him other things, which were not to last for ever, but yet

which were not to be cast away with dishonour; but having, in the

fulness of time, done their work, were then, like David, to fall asleep.

All that was required of the Jews, was not to reject as blasphemy a

doctrine which should distinguish between these two sorts of truths:

which in no way requires to believe that God had not spoken to

Moses,--which, on the contrary, maintained that he had so spoken,--but

only contended that he has also, in these last days, spoken unto us by

his Son; and that his Son, bearing the full image of Divine authority,

might well be believed if he spoke of some parts of Moses's law as

having now fulfilled their work, seeing that they were such parts only

as, by their very nature, were not eternal: they had not been from the

beginning, and therefore they would not live on to the end.

The Christian Life: Its Course, Its Hindrances, and Its Helps · 第 21 / 29 段